


Find My Way Back

by lietcmc, lietomelou



Series: Beautiful Chaos [1]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Royalty, Liam Payne & Louis Tomlinson Friendship, M/M, Minor Zayn Malik/Liam Payne, Niall Horan & Harry Styles Friendship, Pauper Harry, Prince Louis, Zayn Malik & Louis Tomlinson Friendship, larry stylinson - Freeform, ziam
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-03
Updated: 2019-02-24
Packaged: 2019-10-21 18:27:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 14,038
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17647670
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lietcmc/pseuds/lietcmc, https://archiveofourown.org/users/lietomelou/pseuds/lietomelou
Summary: “I told you I’d find my way back to you.”orthe one where Louis’ a prince, Harry’s a pauper, Liam is a knight, Zayn is Louis’ right-hand man, and Niall has a few tricks up his sleeve.





	1. one step closer

“Are you really reading that book again? Haven’t you read that like, a million times?”

 

Harry glances up from the page, his finger holding his spot. He rolls his eyes fondly as he looks at Louis.

 

“It’s only been nine, Lou. Don’t be so dramatic,” he teases. Louis chuckles and shakes his head as he relaxes against the sofa.

 

“I’ve never understood what’s so...interesting about that book. It’s like, every time you finish it, you pick it right back up.”

 

Harry shrugs at that, his tongue peaking out to wet his lips. “Well it’s my favourite book, it’s interesting and very well written; I happen to enjoy being taken into this magical world.”

 

“What’s wrong with the world we’re in now?” Louis asks, Harry raising an eyebrow.

 

He doesn’t know what to say to that, because there really wasn’t anything wrong at the moment. Louis was at his flat nearly every day—annoying him no doubt, but he was still there, so it made everything else just a little bit better.

 

“Nothing, but that doesn’t mean I don’t want to live in this world more,” he says, dog-earring the page and sitting the book down. He’s read that book enough to know it forwards and backwards, and as much as he reads it, he could never get tired of it.

 

Harry tries his hardest to have Louis read it, but for some reason, he always refused. _“I’m just not big on reading,”_ he tells him, which Harry knows is a lie. He’s caught Louis reading on more than one occasion when he’s visited.

 

Louis rolls his eyes, a small smile resting on his face. “Well, as long as I’m here, I’d actually appreciate a bit of my visit to be us doing something together,” he teases, picking up the tv remote.

 

“Let’s watch some Netflix, you know what we can rewatch?” Louis says with a smile on his face, Harry smiles back knowingly.

 

“ _Skins_ ? We can most definitely rewatch _Skins_.”

 

Before Louis has a chance to turn the tv on, Harry starts to stand up from his seat on the sofa, as he turns to Louis, holding out a hand to help pull him up.

 

“Come on, we’re cooking dinner first.”

 

Louis whines, taking Harry’s hand and letting Harry pull him up, putting up a little bit of a fight just to make Harry laugh. It works, obviously. Harry eventually drags a whining Louis into the kitchen, before letting go of his hand and opening the fridge, searching for something to cook.

 

“Pasta or stir fry?” He asks, turning around and squawking at the sight before him.

 

Louis had taken it upon himself to take the bottle of honey out of the cabinet and pour some into his mouth.

 

“That’s disgusting.” Harry proclaims, cringing at the scene in front of him. Louis smirks at him and slowly walks towards Harry, he pushes the bottle of honey forward a bit.

 

“Oh really? That’s disgusting?”

 

Before Harry could say anything, Louis squirts some of the honey onto Harry, which ends up getting a squeal from the taller. Louis laughs hysterically at the sight as Harry reaches into the fridge, grabbing the first thing he could get his hand on before opening the cap and squeezing it towards Louis—who was now covered in chocolate sauce, the older’s gasp being dramatic.

 

Louis reaches behind Harry and pulls the whipped cream out, with a menacing smile stretching his cheeks, he squirts some into his hand and smothers it on Harry’s face.

 

Harry, more shocked than anything, shrieks in offense. “I—oh my—that was too much. That’s it, give me the whipped cream.”

 

He reached for the can, Louis placing his hand on Harry’s chest to hold him away, holding the whipped cream behind him just far enough that it was out of Harry’s reach.

 

“Lou, I’m serious, enough,” He demands, his voice wavering slightly from the smile fighting it’s way onto his face. Louis smirks and shakes his head.

 

“I don’t think you are, Haz,” He teases, slowly bringing it forward and tipping it over Harry’s head, pressing down on the nozzle and letting the cream spray all over Harry’s curls. Harry stares in mock horror until Louis decides he’s finished and pulls back to place the now almost empty can onto the table.

 

“What are you gonna do, Styles?” He challenges, Harry’s smirk growing as he reaches his hands forward, grips Louis shirt and leans forward, pushing his curls into Louis’ face and wiping the cream all over him, Louis squirming and whining like a child as he gets what he deserves.

 

When Harry pulls back, he doubles over in laughter at how defeated Louis looks, shaking his head and stepping back.

 

“We’re both in need of a shower...and I think it’d be best if we ordered pizza, yeah?” He suggests, Louis pouting as he nods, his movements a bit hesitant.

 

“I’m going first, this cream is going to absolutely _destroy_ my hair.” Harry chuckles, turning and walking from the kitchen towards the bathroom down the hall.

 

A cackling Louis sprints past him and through the door, peeking his sticky head out, his tongue between his teeth and a grin splitting his face.

 

“First come, first served,” he teases, his voice cocky as he shuts the door.

 

Harry stares in bewilderment, wondering how in the hell his best friend turned out to be the dork currently taking all of the hot water. He sighs in defeat, turning on his heel and walking towards the living room, grabbing his phone off of the table to dial the pizza place up.

 

As he ordered their usual—two large pizzas, one veggie, one pepperoni and sausage—he looked down at his book sitting forgotten on the table, lightly running his fingers over the cover. _Beautiful Chaos_ was by far the best book in the world, and Harry may have been a bit biased, but it’s still the truth. Y.H. Magic had this certain way of writing that just pulled you into the story and made you never want to put the book down.

 

For Harry, it was a quick read, all five-hundred pages. He’s barely put it down since he put it into his basket at the bookstore by total accident. He smiles at the thought as he hangs up the phone, knowing the real reason he loves the book so much is the fact that the prince reminds him so much of Louis—brash, stubborn, young at heart, a bit rough around the edges until you get to know him. He loves the book, and maybe he had a little bit of a crush on his best friend, how could he not? Not that he’d ever be able to tell Louis that, he was sure that Louis didn’t feel the same way. He didn’t want to risk losing him all together or making things awkward by telling him, so he decided to just keep quiet about it.

 

Louis comes out of the bathroom after a while with freshly washed hair, and a towel wrapped firmly around his waist. Harry made his way into the bathroom himself, but not before letting Louis know that he could borrow his clothes, since Louis didn’t have anything else to change into.

 

The whipped cream was a nightmare to get out of his curly hair, since it had dried a little, and the smell of it was wafting in the air. It was all clumped together, so it took some time to get all the cream out. Once Harry was satisfied with his now clean hair, he exited the bathroom and got changed into some black jogging bottoms and a white worn hoodie, not leaving the room before putting on his white and blue fluffy socks of course—since it’s winter he needed to be extra warm.

 

He was met downstairs by Louis also wearing a pair of Harry’s grey joggers and a matching grey hoodie, both of which were big on him but he was comfortable nonetheless, sitting on the sofa waiting for the pizza.

 

The pizza arrived not even 5 minutes after the first episode of _Skins_ started, the two boys sat watching whilst eating hot pizza and talking amongst themselves.

 

“Seasons one and two will always be the best,” Louis states, finishing his last slice of pizza. “They’re the seasons with the originals.” he adds smiling, leaning forward to grab his drink, then sitting back against the sofa.

 

“I think most people would agree with that. If not, they’re entitled to their own _wrong_ opinion,” Harry laughs in reply. The two of them pull the blanket around them as they get more comfortable and try to warm up.

 

“Jesus, it’s bloody freezing,” Louis sighs whilst shivering a little.

 

He moves closer to Harry, claiming that his body heat would ‘keep him warm’, which wasn’t a lie but also wasn’t the whole truth. So the two of them sat on the sofa, watching more _Skins_ for an hour or so before they had both fallen asleep, Louis’ arm wrapped around Harry, and Harry with his head of Louis’ shoulder; the both of them wrapped in the blanket and in each others’ warmth.

 

They woke up a couple of hours later a sleepy, groaning mess, neither of them really wanting to move from their spots on the sofa but having to anyway.  Louis had to start packing his clothes into his bag and getting his shoes on, and get ready to drive home. He didn’t live too far away but he’d told Zayn that he’d pick some things up from the shop for him and drop them off on the way home; thankfully they were open 24 hours. They said their usual goodbyes and waved at each other before Louis was out of sight, down the road.

 

Harry locks the door behind him, leaning back against it and resting his head on it for a second before going back into the living room again. He decides to read more of his book, taking off his fluffy socks and settling back onto the sofa. Though now instead of being wrapped in the blanket on the sofa with Louis, he was sat alone; which was much colder, now that he didn’t have someone to cuddle into.

 

After reading another few chapters of the book, Harry felt an odd draft blow cool air onto his neck. He shivered, pulling his blanket up higher around him and trying to ignore the sudden chill of the room, and the wind outside had started to pick up too, howling loudly. It was quite distracting, and odd considering the way the sun was shining earlier, though he tried to ignore it. He started to grow tired and before he knew it, he was asleep again, but whilst he was sleeping he could feel a strange _rush_ go through him that he couldn’t explain.

 

The hum of the city that he was used to changed abruptly, the howling sound of wind blowing against the side of his room that had been there before had suddenly stopped. It was much colder than before, and the blanket he kept pulling above his shoulders was too short and exposed his bare feet with each tug. Finally, after tossing and turning, Harry’s internal clock won and he decided he should probably get up. He pushes himself up, his sofa oddly less comfortable than before.

 

Harry rubs at his eyes, making a soft noise while he stretches before opening his eyes.  This—this wasn’t right. He looks around the room, his eyes squinted as they adjusted to the sunlight pouring through the window.

 

“What are you still doing in bed?!” Harry’s head shot towards the voice, rough and quiet.

 

A blond man about his age was staring back at him in exasperation, and he was moving towards him at an alarming speed. The lad rips the blanket from him and begins to fold it quickly, placing it at the very edge of the cot Harry was sitting on.

 

“Marian won’t be happy when she finds out you slept in on your first day. Harry, stop staring and get your kit on!” He whisper-yells again, Harry slowly standing from the cot and looking around the small room for whatever this unknown stranger he was talking about.

 

“Who are you?” He asks quietly, grabbing the clothes—which were more than likely old potato sacks and looked just as uncomfortable—from the table in the corner and slowly pulling them on. He realised his attire had changed to rags that he’d never seen before. The blond looks up at him as he cleans up the room, a look of bewilderment on his face.

 

“Niall, you imbecile. What do you mean,’who are you’?” The lad—Niall—spits back to him, Harry pulling on the shoes he’d found at the edge of the cot.

 

“Who’s Marian?” Harry asks, frowning as he watches Niall fluff the flat pillow.

 

“She lets us sleep here, and in return, we travel to the castle and help her do her duties. Now will you stop asking idiotic questions and hurry up?!” His voice is quiet, Harry’s guessing in fear of this Marian dame.

 

“Okay, I’m ready I guess,” Harry mutters as he follows Niall out of the door.

 

“We can’t waste time, we have to get things right, do you want the royals to have our heads?!” He exclaims at Harry.

 

Harry was definitely now more shocked than he was confused—nope, definitely more confused.

 

“Have our heads? What do you mean?”

 

Niall stops abruptly and turns to look Harry dead on, examining his face.

 

“Did you hit your head or something?” He asks. “Harry, are you fucking with me?” Niall stares at him as they walk towards an old wagon, Harry seeing a woman tending to a mule next to the shed.

 

Harry takes this time to look around at his surroundings, and he swore he was having a stroke. The houses around looked like something from a movie he’d seen so long ago.

 

“Language, boys. We don’t want the royals thinking we live in squalor, do we?” The woman—Marian, Harry assumed—asks them.

 

“No, ma’am. Harry here was just taking his sweet time getting ready,” he tells her, Marian smiling kindly.

 

“Well he’s awake now, isn’t he?” She teases, climbing up onto the wagon and waving for the boys to join her. The two of them sit up on the wagon with Marian as they head to the castle.

 

When they arrive at the castle after quite a bumpy ride, Harry is dumbstruck by the sight before him; he’d never seen anything like it, at least not in real life. It was just amazing; a real castle, like all the classic ones you see in movies; the high tower walls, the big gates, the guards. Everything, he was stunned.

 

“Well come on Harry, our duties aren’t to just stand here and look stupid.”

 

Niall nudges Harry with his shoulder as he rolls his eyes, the two of them following Marian to the back of the castle. Harry made sure to keep his eyes open as he walked through the corridors, taking in the beautiful art and coat of arms decorating each wall. It was almost too flashy, but if they have it, why not show it off?

 

“The royals, are they good people? Fair, and such?” Harry asks, not looking at Niall, as his eyes were too busy trying to take in everything before him.

 

He can’t tear his eyes away from the people walking by them. Their noses were in the air, which Harry thought was quite rude until he realised they were—quite literally—wearing potato sacks for clothes.

 

Niall nodded his head, humming in affirmation.

 

“Most definitely. The queen is a lovely woman; she’s always going into town to buy fruit from the local markets, giving back to the community and such. The eldest princesses are just like their mother, I’m not sure about the younger heirs though,” he told him, running his hands over his clothes to smooth them down.  Harry waited for him to continue.

 

“The youngest prince is just over the age of four, and a twin with one of the princesses. The eldest prince is the eldest of the heirs, and I haven’t heard much of him,” he finishes, Harry humming quietly.

 

“You never mentioned the king,” he tells him, Niall tensing immediately. The blond looks around the corridor before leaning towards Harry and dropping his voice.

 

“The king is a vicious man, would have anyone that got in his way killed before the sunrise,” he whispers, Harry swallowing and nodding.

 

“So, you were being serious about them having my head if we were late?” He asks, Niall looking at him with a soft smirk.

 

“Sort of,” he tells him, Harry frowning before Niall snickers. “I just wanted you to get your lazy arse out of bed.”

 

Harry rolls his eyes at that, a small smile on his face as they turned the corner. He feels like he could grow fond of the loud lad. Harry doesn’t realise how little attention he’s been paying until he runs straight into a hard chest, a huff leaving his lips as he dropped the mop and rags he was carrying.

 

“Sorry,” he says quickly, dropping to his knees to pick them up, before glancing up and nearly choking on his tongue. He’d recognise those blue eyes anywhere.

 

“Lou?” He all but whispers, the man frowning and opening his mouth for a second before he was interrupted.

 

“It’s ‘Your Highness,’ to you,” a deeper voice spoke, Harry’s eyes shifting to the other figure. Zayn, Zayn fucking Malik.

 

“S-Sorry, Lo-I mean, Your Highness,” Harry stuttered, standing and glancing over at Niall. The poor lad had gone pale, gawking at what had just happened. He looked as if he’d seen a ghost, almost like he was a millisecond away from pissing his trousers then and there.

 

Louis nods his head stiffly, confirming that he accepted the apology before he and Zayn walked around the two, continuing their conversation. Harry kept his gaze on Niall after that, the blond nearly collapsing from how quickly he relaxes once the two were gone.

 

“Jesus Christ, Harry!” He hisses, smacking at Harry’s arm. “Are you stupid or something?!”

 

Harry usually would have taken offence to that, but he didn’t understand why running into Louis was such a big deal. Regardless, he was very confused about what had just happened.

 

“It’s just Louis, what’s the problem? And why the hell did Zayn Malik tell me to call him ‘Your Highness’?” He asks, turning around to watch as they walk away.

 

Harry has never seen Louis dress in something so stiff, he looks as if his upper half were a mannequin from how straight his posture was.

 

“What do you mean, ‘what’s the problem?’ You just ran into the fucking prince of Yorkshire, you idiot.” Niall shakes his head as they continue walking down the long corridors. “You’re lucky that wasn’t the king, a lot worse would’ve happened. Also, he isn’t just ‘Zayn Malik’, you twat. He’s the prince’s right hand, and he could have you killed for _breathing_ near them wrong.” Niall was nearly hysterical, so Harry just decided to take that moment to process everything he had been told up to this point.

 

Louis is a prince, the Louis he’d known for years, _his_ Louis. Zayn was his right hand, and a bit of a tit if Harry was being honest. Niall was a total stranger, he was living with a woman named Marian, and he woke up in a place he’s never been before, but for some ungodly reason it was so bloody _familiar_. He desperately wanted to figure out why it felt so familiar to him, and when they stop at a dead end, Harry finally turned to Niall to speak, but before he could, a deep voice interrupted him.

 

“What are you lads doing here?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is our first fic we have written together, we hope you enjoy reading it, as we love writing it! weekly updates - sunday. feel free to follow our twitters for updates and us being crackheads whilst writing! lots of love - yazzy (@lietcmc) & lyd (@kissykiwilwt) <3


	2. closer to the light

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Louis is a royal brat, and Harry isn't as quiet as he seems.

“What are you lads doing here?”

 

They turn to face in the direction the voice came from, and Harry once again is left confused. 

 

“Liam?” He asks, unsure if he called him by the ‘wrong name’ as he did with Louis. He could see Liam was in some kind of knight’s uniform, he wouldn’t be surprised if he had to call him ‘Knight Liam’ or something stupid.

 

“Yes, that would be me, although you didn’t answer my question, so I will ask again; what are you two doing here?”

 

“Sorry sir, we were on our way to do our cleaning duties—to earn our keep, but we mistakenly went the wrong way.” Niall answers.

 

Liam nods and hums in return at him, a light smile now paints his face.

 

“Okay just be careful in the future.”

 

The smile staying on his face as the two boys return soft smiles. They walk the other way, this time going the correct way, and round the corner to start their cleaning duties. Harry knew Liam would have been kind regardless. Then again, he never expected Louis to stay silent while anyone was rude to him.

 

He follows Niall, keeping his head down so he won’t catch any unnecessary attention, which was stupid on his part. He was in a potato sack outfit, carrying medieval cleaning supplies, for fucks sake. No one would give him a second look. When Niall stops, Harry bumps into his back lightly before lifting his head and groaning.

 

They were standing in the kitchen, and everything smelled so good. Harry didn’t know what he did to deserve this torture, but he watches as Niall immediately drops to his knees and began scrubbing at a scuff mark. Harry looks around, seeing the other servants cleaning and stepping over the others, who were in a similar position as Niall.

 

Slowly but surely, Harry sinks down to his knees and starts scrubbing the floor. He doesn’t understand the point in this, considering the floors were already sparkling, but he followed Niall, and just went with it.

 

“You,” someone’s voice boomed, Harry flinching and glancing up along with Niall. A man stood over them, his finger pointing directly at Harry. “Your services are needed elsewhere, follow me.” He demands, Harry looking back to Niall with wide eyes. The blond had his lip between his teeth, his eyes apologetic as Harry stood and slowly followed the man, his rags in his hands.

 

It seemed like they walked forever until the man stopped in front of a door, knocked twice, and then pushed the heavy wooden door open. He gestures Harry inside, to which the boy complied. 

 

It was a bedroom, and it was an absolute disaster.

 

“This needs to be immaculate before the sun sets,” the man spoke one last time before shutting the door, Harry sighing as he starts to pick up the clothes off of the floor and places them into a basket. Even the fucking  _ clothes basket _ looked like it cost more than Harry’s whole house.

 

Harry huffs after that was done, finding folded sheets on the ottoman at the end of the bed. He pulls the sheets off of the bed and remakes it, making sure the sheets were smooth. He was confused; what kind of royal brat didn’t clean their room? A small scoff left Harry’s lips as he drops to his knees and starts to scrub at the scuffed floor, grumbling to himself. He’s been...wherever he is for half a day, and he already hates one of the royals.

 

It had to have been early in the evening when he finished, sweaty and flushed as he stood, looking around the room with a bit of pride filling his chest, at the now tidy room. Good, it better stay this way too. He slowly wanders towards the tall bookshelf in the corner of the room, glancing at each spine for a few seconds before moving onto the next.

 

Whoever this was, they had a decent selection of classics. Tons of Shakespeare, which Harry found interesting. He reaches forward, his fingers barely grazing one of the spines when the door opens and slams shut. Harry freezes, immediately wishing he could disappear.

 

There were a few footsteps from the person before they stop, a small hitch in breath making Harry close his eyes. He’s been caught.

 

“Who are you?” He heard, the voice soothingly familiar, to the point where Harry almost relaxed immediately.

 

Harry turns, his suspicions confirmed when he sees Louis. He had stripped himself from the blazer—he had thrown it on the floor Harry had just cleaned—and was now in just a white button up and trousers. Harry nearly cries. All he wanted was to just run up to him and hug him, tell him how confused he was and how badly he wanted to go home, but then he remembered this wasn’t his Louis.

 

This Louis turned his nose up to commoners, and it broke Harry’s heart.

 

“I-I’m Harry, Your Highness,” He tells him, his voice wavering from the knot in his throat. 

 

Louis steps forward, his eyes trailing up and down Harry’s frame before settling on his face. 

 

“You bumped into me earlier today, yes?” He tilts his head to the side, awaiting Harry’s answer.

 

Harry didn’t sense any malice in Louis’ tone, just genuine curiosity. He nods instead of speaking, his hands linked in front of him to keep them from fidgeting. He’s never been nervous around Louis, but this Louis held some sort of power over him; Harry felt like he  _ had _ to be intimidated by him. From what Niall had told him, he was scared that he would do something stupid on accident and then he’d be thrown in the prison, and left to rot, the thought of it made him shiver slightly.

 

Louis looks behind Harry to the bookshelf that he was observing before he entered the room, his eyes landing back on Harry quickly, as if they never left him.

 

“So I take it you enjoy reading?” Harry looks up from his fumbling hands.

 

“Y-Yes, Your Highness.”

 

Louis could tell that the boy seemed a little on edge but he didn’t really know how to make him more relaxed. Everyone seemed to be intimidated by him because he was the ‘Prince of Yorkshire’. Even Zayn, his own best friend, was a bit hesitant around him.

 

“I don’t recognise you; I’m sure I would, are you new?” Louis looks at Harry, seeming to examine him more.

 

“I-I um, Niall and Marian took me in after my parents died in a fire.” Harry blurts out quickly, knowing very well that wasn’t true and was nowhere near the truth, he himself was confused as to why he had said such a thing; maybe it was just because he had panicked and said something random.

 

“Oh, I’m so sorry to hear that,” Louis mumbles hesitantly, the air in the room now feeling uncomfortable and awkward.

 

“I-It’s fine,” he mumbles, wanting the floor to swallow him whole because he’s a fucking  _ idiot _ .

 

He glances back at the bookshelf, the titles on the spines seemed to shimmer against the setting sun peeking through the window.

 

“You like to read too?” He asks casually, wanting nothing more than to talk about something he  _ knows _ , something comfortable. When he turns back to Louis, he doesn’t expect the lad to be so close to him that their chests nearly touch, his angry face just inches away from Harry’s.

 

Harry felt faint, being this close to a red-faced Louis.

 

“You think just because I’m royal, it means that I can’t enjoy common things?” He spits.

 

Harry frowns down at him, silently thanking God for making him just a few inches taller than Louis.

 

“I never said that, and I’d never assume something like that. I was just making conversation,” he says, Louis taking a step back. The malice remained on his face. 

 

“No one gave you permission to do so, did they?” He asks. At that, Harry’s face was a mix between annoyance and bewilderment, his eyebrows nearly reaching his hairline.

 

Harry scoffs, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning back on his left foot to stabilize himself.

 

“I don’t need anyone’s permission to talk to anyone about anything,  _ Your Highness _ ,” he felt a bit of anxiety bubble in his chest at how sarcastic the title felt when he had replied, but this Louis deserved it for being a twat. “We’re both human beings, just because you have a higher status than I do doesn’t mean you can treat others like dirt.”

 

Louis stares at Harry, his face unreadable for just moment before he sighs. Harry watches him closely as he looked around the room, trying to think of something to retort with, but he looked lost.

 

“Exactly,” Harry says again, breaking the silence in the room, his voice echoing off of the high ceiling and startling Louis.

 

When Louis finally looks at Harry again, he had an odd expression on his face. He opens his mouth, but before he could say another word, there was a knock at the door, and Zayn pokes his head into the room.

 

“There is a feast downstairs, they told me to come and get you, said there were some people that they wanted you to speak to.” Louis sighs as he nods.

 

He grabs the blazer from off the floor and throws it on before heading towards the door. He stops and turns to Harry, hesitating before speaking.

 

“Well come on then, you’ll be needed too right?” He tips his head in the direction of the door, a shocked Harry follows closely behind the two as they enter the dining hall.

 

Harry quickly finds Niall and trudges towards him. At least he wasn’t intimidated by Niall, he seemed like a genuinely nice guy. There were quite a few men gathered around, and Harry watched closely as Louis tried to hide his distaste as he shook each of their hands.

 

“What’s going on?” he whispers, Niall shushing him and smacking him in the arm.

 

“We’re serving, be silent.” He told him, keeping his eyes forward.

 

As the men sat down at the table, the servers brought out the food for Niall, Harry and a few others to distribute. Harry, of course, places his last plate right in front of Louis, pulling away and accidentally bumping his shoulder. The entire table freezes, and he could have sworn he could hear the crickets outside of the building.

 

“S-Sorry,” he whispers, stepping back and walking back towards the wall where Niall was.

 

Murmuring erupts through the dining hall, the men all demanding Louis do something for Harry’s irresponsibility. Louis on the other hand didn’t really see the point in ‘doing something’ because it was after all it was just a tiny accident, but to suppress the murmurs from everyone he just says that he’d like to speak to Harry in private after the feast. They thankfully stop talking about the accident after Louis says that, he knows what he’s going to say to Harry but judging by the look on Harry’s face, he had no idea what Louis was going to say to him.

 

As the feast went on Louis grew immensely tired of all the dukes, and lords trying to impress him and trying to sway him into choosing their daughter to marry. When truth be told Louis didn’t want to marry any of the girls put forward, he didn’t want to marry anyone at all. 

 

What a load of bullshit it was, he thinks. He hates it, he hates being a royal in general, really. Yes, it was all good and well with them having a wonderful place to live, and how they were treated, or so most people would think. Louis hates how they’re treated, as though they were above everything and everyone. 

 

People were so intimidated that most of the time they didn’t dare to look him in the eyes out of fear. Although he had to put on an act to make it seem like he didn’t hate how they were treated, like when he told Harry he didn’t have permission to try to ‘make conversation’ with him; he hates himself for having to say that, but he has to keep this act up to make his family happy.

 

There was a lot of pressure on Louis though, as he is the first born son, he would be king after his father. Which is why they were looking for a wife for him, someone to rule beside him, to be his future queen. His parents had been throwing all these questions at him about his future and finding a wife recently, and he felt like he could only keep up this facade for so much longer but at some point he knew he was going to end up snapping. 

 

Truth be told when you’re the first born son, as soon as you’re born everyone starts thinking about your future and planning it for you. It’s like he don’t have a say in his own life, which he guessed he didn’t really. His future was pretty much planned for him, but it made him feel like a prisoner; he had no choices, he had been too afraid to speak out in fear of disappointing his family.

 

The feast lasts much longer than Louis had wanted, and when he glances at the wall where the servants stood, he could see the paleness of Harry’s face as he whispers to Niall, his voice unheard amongst the constant hum from the dining table. He feels a bit guilty, knowing the lad was probably shaking in his shoes.

 

As soon as he shook the last duke’s hand, he turns and walks towards the servants, watching as Harry presses himself against the wall. It looks as if he’s trying to mold himself into the wall, which made Louis’ guilt skyrocket. The poor boy probably thought Louis was going to kill him.

 

“I need to speak with you,” his voice is firm, to strike fear into the others against the wall. He can’t have them thinking he’s soft.

 

Harry squeezes Niall’s arm before following Louis out of the dining hall. He glances back, watching Harry look anywhere but ahead of him. A small chuckle left his lips as he stops, turning so Harry knew not to run into him. The younger stops, keeping his eyes on his feet. 

 

“Harry, look at me.” He demands, his voice soft but firm.

 

Louis wants to make it known that he isn’t angry at him, so that Harry would stop looking like he was headed to the guillotine. Harry looks up to meet Louis’ eyes but he still resembles a sad puppy, Louis sighs before talking again.

 

“I’m not mad at you, I promise. I just had to say something in there so everyone would stop talking about it.”

 

Harry’s face changes into more of a pleasant shock, clearly because he was happy that Louis wasn’t mad.

 

“You aren’t angry? I mean I know it was an accident and all, but you just seemed kind of angry in there.” Harry says, his voice quiet.

 

He felt like this was a joke, that this Louis would be harsh, and have him thrown in prison, or even killed for his mistake.

 

“No, I’m really not mad, I just had to act like I was angry at you in front of the dukes and lords because I can’t have them think that I’m not fit to be a future king, and clearly I had to act like it in font of the workers, I do have a reputation you know.”

 

He smiles at Harry softly and laughs a little. Harry returns the smile, and he may or may not giggle lightly, quickly putting his hand over his mouth in shock. Louis smiles wider at that and continues talking before they’d all have to go to their rooms.

 

“Just be careful around everyone else though, yeah? Don’t want you getting into trouble.”

Harry, blushing from giggling in front of the prince, looks up at him with a smile bright enough to show his dimples.

 

“Well thank you then—for not actually being mad, and helping me in a way.”

 

Louis puts his hand on Harry’s shoulder and gives a little squeeze. Footsteps echo through the corridor, Louis looking at Harry with warning eyes.

 

“Of course Harry, now head home and get some rest.” Harry nods his head at Louis and turns, walking away, presumably to go find Niall.

 

Louis sees that it’s his father that’s approaching him, his posture immediately straightening as he walked closer.

 

“Louis,” his father’s voice quiet but firm, most likely disappointed in him for something.

 

“Sir,” Louis replies, his voice wavering slightly. The entire kingdom was terrified of his father, but none of them had the fear that Louis did.

 

King Peter was a good father, husband, and ruler, but he and Louis have always disagreed on everything. The king’s solution to everything was punishment—whether that be a prison sentence, a beating, or death depended on the crime. He was vicious in his politics, using his foul tongue to win each and every debate he was involved in.

 

Louis was the exact opposite; he preferred taking things slow when it came to punishment, making sure everything was fair and no one got something they didn’t deserve. He never raised his voice during a debate, not wanting to use his status as a factor in striking fear in someone else.

 

The king stood in front of Louis now, the prince waiting for his father to speak.

 

“We’re all looking forward to your choice, did you hear anything that piqued your interest?” He asks, Louis frowning slightly.

 

“I have not met the girls, Father. It would be rude for me to favour one over the other right now,” He says firmly, the king now frowning. 

 

“Surely you must have heard something, about one of the girls in particular? Maybe a trait you’d look for in a good wife and queen.”

 

Louis wants to scream in that moment, but he knew he couldn’t. He physically had to stop himself from rolling his eyes, his father just wouldn’t give up.

 

“I really don’t know, Father. I’d rather wait to meet them all in person, so I can speak to them myself,” he replies, trying to get his father to let off. 

 

Louis and his father stare at one another, the tension thick and the corridor so quiet, you could hear a pin drop. Finally, the king spoke, his tone serious.

 

“You’ll have to choose the next time they all visit. They’re bringing their daughters, choose wisely. You’re dismissed, sleep well.”

 

King Peter nods once before turning on his heel and walking stiffly towards his room. Louis relaxes tremendously before turning and walking towards his own room. He turns the corner, nearly jumping out of his skin when he sees Harry there. He smiles sheepishly, clearing his throat and running a hand through his hair.

 

“I wasn’t eavesdropping,” he tells Louis, his voice not at all convincing.

 

Louis chuckles, shaking his head in amusement before walking past him. He wasn’t expecting Harry to follow, or continue to speak to him.

 

“That seemed kind of ridiculous, if I’m being honest.” Harry’s voice was soft, trying not to upset the prince.

 

Louis wouldn’t admit it, but he was sort of endeared by Harry’s attempt at conversation. All Louis wanted right now was to sink into a hot bath, read, and ignore the outside world for a few hours. 

 

“Yes, it was.” Louis tells him, not wanting to get into it really. “I thought you were leaving?” He asks, glancing over his shoulder, to see Harry staring right back at him.

 

Harry shrugs. “To be completely honest, I don’t remember the path back to the kitchen, so I kind of gave up. Hence me... _ not _ eavesdropping.” He hesitates, Louis cracking a smile and shaking his head.

 

“You’re an odd one, aren’t you?” He teases, Harry’s grin splitting his face, his dimple making an appearance on his cheek.

 

“So I’m told,” he answers, biting his bottom lip lightly.

 

Louis snickers as he stops, his hand resting on his door. He points towards one of the doorways across the hall.

 

“If you head straight down that corridor, and make a left at the end of it, you’ll find the kitchen.”

 

Harry smiles and nods his head, turning and walking away. Louis can’t help but watch him, turning to open his door before stopping. Out of nowhere, he turns and shouts Harry’s name. When the boy turns, Louis feels his cheeks heat.

 

“Will I see you tomorrow?” He asks, tilting his head to the side as he awaited his answer.

 

Louis watches as confusion flitters on his features for just a moment before he grins and nods.

 

“I’m sure I’ll join Niall and Marian, will I see you?” He asks, Louis smiling small and nodding.

 

“Of course.”

 

Harry nods his head, turning and continuing to walk until Louis couldn’t see him anymore, to which he turns and pushes his door open. He didn’t know what it was, but something in his gut was telling him Harry was important.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for nearly 100 reads/hits! We hope you enjoy reading this chapter as well! As we still really love writing it, see you next week for another update! - yazzy (@lietcmc on twitter) and lyd (@kissykiwilwt on twitter) <3


	3. no matter where we're going, i'll be by your side

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Louis makes an unexpected friend, Harry wears a rag in his hair, and suddenly everything starts to make sense.

In the ways Louis is usually woken up, he sure as hell wasn’t expecting Zayn to be poking his nose with a cane repeatedly.

 

“Can I help you?” He asks, his voice rough from sleep.

 

Zayn’s movements stop then, the lad placing the cane next to Louis’ bed where it sat before. 

 

“You have an unexpected visitor,” he says, Louis frowning.

 

His mind went to Harry, but there’s no way that could possibly happen.

 

Harry works at the castle; so the only way Harry could spend time with Louis is if the prince approached him. He pushes his covers off of him, scratching the top of his head as he rested his feet on the floor.

 

“Who?” He asks, standing from his bed and walking towards his wardrobe.

 

“Lady Anastasia of Navan,” Zayn answers immediately, Louis humming as he strips from his clothes.

 

He didn’t care much about being nude in front of others, especially not Zayn.

 

“Why is she here?” Louis asks as he pulls on his underclothes, sliding his trousers up his legs and jumping so they fit over his bum. Stupid pants.

 

Zayn chuckles as he watched Louis, shrugging even though the other couldn’t see him. 

 

“Probably to win your heart, or something of the sort. She mentioned something about her father sending her.”

 

Louis rolls his eyes as he pulls a blue button-up on, deciding to keep the interaction semi-casual so she wouldn’t get the wrong idea.

 

“That’s just fantastic, innit? I’ve been ordered to treat these women like prizes to be won,” Louis grumbles to himself, slipping on a pair of his shoes. “I don’t understand, it isn’t fair to them. They don’t have any say in this,  _ I _ at least have a choice of who it will be.”

 

Louis knows he’s rambling, but it’s true. He doesn’t want to be married, and he especially doesn’t want it to be against the other person’s will.

 

This whole charade was just despicable, in Louis’ opinion. Zayn raises an eyebrow when Louis finishes lacing his shoes and looked at him.

 

“You haven’t had too much of a problem with it until recently,” he points out, tilting his head to the side in curiosity. “Why is that?” He asks, Louis shrugging his shoulders.

 

“I don’t know, I think I’ve always had a problem with it in some way, but because it’s gotten so much closer to me having to  _ choose _ someone to marry, it’s just stressing me out.” Louis puts his face in his hands and sighs. “And the fact that both my parents, mainly my father, won’t shut up about it, is just really annoying.”

 

Zayn nods his head in understanding, a small hum coming from him. “Well, maybe they’re just looking forward to you taking over. Your twenty-first birthday is coming soon,” Zayn says, Louis rolling his eyes at the reminder.

 

“I’m aware of that, Zayn. I don’t want to hear about the law, alright? I’m really not in the mood,” Louis mumbles as he gestures towards the door.

 

The law states that the heir to the throne should be married before the age of twenty-one, and if they aren’t, they can’t take over for the previous ruler. It’s a sticky situation either way. Louis could refuse to marry, and one of his sisters could get married and become the next heir, or Louis could get married and be absolutely miserable for the rest of his life. His father would never let him live it down if he refused the throne, and he’d be seen as a joke throughout the kingdom.

 

A small sigh escapes Zayn’s lips as he lead the prince towards the door.

 

“I do think you should give her a chance. She was very polite when asking for you,” Zayn says, Louis letting a small puff of breath leave his lips. 

 

He doesn’t answer, just follows Zayn out of his room and down the corridor to the library.

 

The girl standing inside couldn’t be any older than eighteen, and she was quite small. Louis had at least a foot on her, which he felt was endearing. She turns at the noise, the book in her hands slowly being placed back on the shelf.

 

“I’m sorry,” she finally spoke, her voice high and nervous. “I was told to stand in here, and then I saw you had Shakespeare’s sonnets and I couldn’t help myself,” She rambles, Louis smiling against his own accord and shaking his head.

 

“It’s alright, Lady Anastasia. You didn’t harm me or taint the books in anyway,” he tells her, glancing to his side to see Zayn has already left.

 

“Please,” she says, Louis’ attention being brought back to her. She’s taken a few steps closer, but still kept a comfortable space between them. “Call me Anna, Your Highness. I hate being so formal, even though my father would have my head if I even  _ suggested _ getting rid of formalities.”

 

Louis grins at her, nodding his head. He likes her already. “Call me Louis,” He says, Anna frowning and tilting her head to the side. Her hair fell to the side with it, red waves bouncing as they started to settle. “Formalities aren’t really my thing either.”

 

Anna smiles and nods her head once, crossing her hands behind her back.

 

“Would you like to take a walk in the garden with me?” Louis asks, Anna looking at him with a slight frown.

 

“You know my father sent me, so you don’t have to entertain me. I can leave.”

 

Louis hums softly and just watches her for a moment. She’s beautiful, in an unconventional way. It would take a shallow man ages to think she’s attractive, but Louis never considered himself shallow. He doesn’t want to marry her, he can assure himself of that—but he can feel that she’s going to be important to him.

 

“I know I don’t have to, but I’d like to.”

 

His voice is kind of quiet, shy almost. Louis’ never really had the chance to make real friends, except for Zayn. Everyone would hang around until they realized they weren’t getting anything, which is why he was looking forward to this.

 

Louis was surprised when Anna smiles, and nods her head.

 

“That would be lovely then, actually. It’s beautiful outside.”

 

✱✱

 

“I don’t believe you.”

 

Harry huffs in exasperation, clearly annoyed by Niall at this point.

 

“You asked me what happened last night, and I told you.”

 

He starts putting his shoes on, as Niall still stares at him.

 

“There’s something you aren’t telling me about what happened.” Niall insists, crossing his arms over his chest.

 

Harry rolls his eyes, his annoyance growing. “I cleaned his bedroom, he walked in, we served him dinner, he pardoned my offense, and now we’re here.” Harry repeats, shrugging his shoulders. Niall’s eyes were burning into the side of Harry’s face, his eyes squinted as he thought.

 

“There’s more to that, Harry. I’m not as stupid as you seem to think I look.”

 

Harry groans and stands from the cot, his shoes laced up and his clothes rubbing his neck raw. He tugs at the hem, grunting quietly.

 

“It isn’t that big of a deal, Niall. We just talked about books,” he says, ignoring the way Niall rolls his eyes.

 

“And?” He asks, Harry biting his lip before crossing his arms over his chest.

 

“I may have yelled at him for being a bit of a twat,” Harry finally relents, jumping at the bewildered squawk leaving Niall’s lips before he picked up the pillow on Harry’s cot and begins to hit him with it. Harry shrieks, dodging the hits unsuccessfully as he backs away.

 

“You  _ idiot _ ! Are you trying to get yourself killed?!”

 

Niall’s voice is high pitched as he tries his hardest to keep his voice quiet, not wanting to risk Marian hearing them. Harry finally grips the pillow and yanks it from Niall’s hands before beginning to swing at him with it.

 

He had begun to laugh at this point, this little “pillow fight” being absolutely ridiculous.

 

“No, he talked to me like I was the dirt under his feet. Now can you stop pretending like every small decision will get us executed?” He laughs, Niall beginning to cackle as well.

 

“Fine, fine, now stop hitting me!” He demands, ripping the pillow from Harry’s hands and dropping it back onto the cot. Niall sighs and turns back to Harry, the taller grinning down at him. “Seriously, though. I will not defend you if you did something stupid to piss the bloody Prince of Yorkshire off, got it?” Niall states, a smile in his eyes, but his face hard in seriousness. Harry laughs once more.

 

“Yeah, yeah, I know.” Harry mumbles, Niall’s eyebrow raising slightly.

 

Harry can tell he’s going to say something more, but he before he can, Marian’s voice echoes through the house and startles the both of them.

 

“Boys. Come on let’s go!” Harry glances back at the door before looking back to Niall.

 

“Details tonight, you aren’t getting out of it.” Niall tells him, walking around him to leave the room.

 

They run out the door and are met with Marian looking at them with a raised brow, arms crossed over her chest but with a light smirk on her face. 

 

“So what were you two talking about this morning?” She asks, as she swiftly uncrosses her arms and tucks her hair back into her hair wrap.

 

Harry watches her closely, before grabbing one of the clean rags and tearing it slightly, making the fabric a bit longer. He wraps it around his head, tucking his hair into it to keep it out of his face. He’s done this back home a few times, but he never really felt such a pull to do so as he did now. He could see Niall shrug his shoulders at Marian’s question out of the corner of his eye.

 

“Nothing important, Ma’am. Do we have any specific duties today?” He asks, Harry silently thanking him for changing the conversation. Marian easily began rambling on about their duties, which Harry didn’t listen to at all.

 

He was too busy thinking about his Louis back home. He wondered if this was temporary, or if he was stuck here forever. Harry also seemed to worry how Louis was holding up, or if Louis even knew. Maybe time was frozen there, or something? He had no idea, but he couldn’t help but overthink everything.

 

“Harry, did you hear me?”

 

Harry glances up from his hands, meeting Niall’s eyes.

 

“Sorry, what?” He asks, attempting to rub the drowsiness from his eyes.

 

He hasn’t woken up this early in ages. Niall smiles and shakes his head, seeming to be a bit fond of Harry’s total obliviousness.

 

“I said that when we get to the castle, try not to run into anyone.”

 

Harry snickers at Niall’s teasing tone, rolling his eyes and humming, having nothing to say. Although he kept trying to focus on the humor, his mind wouldn’t let him focus properly, the continuous thoughts of ‘ _ what’s happening in the real world? _ ’, ‘ _ is Louis okay? _ ’ wouldn’t leave his mind.

 

Everything seemed the same as yesterday when they got to the castle, people walking about the courtyard, laughing amongst themselves, workers outside carrying supplies--the usual everyday routine. 

 

“So,” Niall starts just as they separated from Marian, Harry humming as they walked around the building to the back. “Do you think he’s already trashed his room?” He asks, Harry snickers and shrugs.

 

“I sure hope not, that was  _ miserable _ ,” He laughs, Niall grinning and shrugging.

 

They don’t talk much after that, just going through what they did yesterday. After a few hours Harry realises he has to use the toilet--and bad. He looked around the room, seeing the other servants were busy working, and the guards weren’t paying any attention.

 

He stands slowly from his spot and backs up until he was out of the room. A small huff of breath left his lips as he starts to walk through the castle, looking desperately for a bathroom. He stops in front of a wooden door that doesn’t look familiar. He turns the knob and pushes it open, squinting at the sunlight that peaks through the opening and nearly blinds him.

 

Harry groans quietly, as he continues to push the door open further and step outside. He needs to find a place to piss, and  _ now _ . He finally steps onto a path and walks for what felt like ages, until he came across a more secluded part of the garden. He’d have to piss here, he couldn’t hold it any longer and there seemed to be no one around. Perfect.

 

Although after he’s finished his business, he realises that he was actually mistaken. Well, no one saw him pissing in the lovely rose bushes, but there were people around, more importantly it was Prince Louis and a girl he was unfamiliar with, and they were walking his way.

 

He panics, and does what every sane person does when they panic; he leaps into the bushes.

 

Harry of course didn’t think this through, because as soon as he landed, he shrieks at the feeling of thorns scratching up his limbs. He bit down on his lip, hard, to try conceal the small whimpers of pain. He was thankful he missed where he soiled the beautiful pink roses, but it was still horrendous thinking about it.

 

“Hello?” A feminine voice called, and Harry grunts quietly. They heard him. “Are you alright? What...What are you doing?” They’ve seen him, fan-fucking-tastic. Harry lifts his head, his eyes meeting the girl’s immediately. He smiles sheepishly, noticing a bit of humour dancing in her eyes.

 

“Erm, hi.” Harry says quietly, standing up and wincing as the thorns began to scratch and poke him with his movements. He couldn’t look at Louis, he’d most definitely die. “I decided to, erm...look at the roses.” He tells her lamely as he looks down. She was quite short, he definitely had at least a foot and a half on her.

 

A small snort left her, the girl covering her mouth as she giggled relentlessly. “You wanted to look at the roses, by-by jumping in the bush?” She asks through her giggles, Harry smiling and chuckling as well, shrugging his shoulders.

 

“It is what it is,” Harry says, finally glancing at Louis. He couldn’t read his face, but Louis was focused on the cuts, that were now beginning to bleed, covering Harry’s body. 

 

“Are you alright?” Louis asks, his voice soft as he reaches forward.

 

Harry’s breath hitches slightly when Louis’ fingertips brush against his arm, gripping it softly to inspect the injuries scattering his body.

 

“Come with me, we need to clean those cuts,” Louis instructs as he carefully helps Harry out of the bushes and back onto the stone path. Harry feels a bit like a child because of this, and he may have a little pout on his face as he follows Louis closely, the girl walking behind them.

 

“Louis,” her voice breaks the silence, Harry nearly jumping as they step inside the castle, Louis turning with a small frown. “I should probably leave, my father will have a conniption if I’m not home before supper.” She says, Louis nodding his head and Harry feeling quite useless during this conversation.

 

She steps forward and presses a kiss to his cheek, stepping back and smiling. Harry feels a pang in his chest at the sight, biting his lip when Louis’ cheeks turn pink. “I’ll hopefully see you soon, today was fun. Goodbye,” She says, turning to Harry and smiling wide. “It was nice to meet you, even though I never got your name. I’m Anna,” she says, stepping forward and kissing Harry’s cheek as well, leaving him dumbfounded as she pulls away.

 

“H-Harry, and likewise,” He says, watching as she nods and turns away, looking back once at the end of the corridor and waving at the two of them before disappearing around the corner. “Well, that was odd.” Harry mumbles, looking back to Louis.

 

Louis chuckles and nods. “Okay now we need to focus on you, I’ll need to get a few supplies, and get those cuts tended to.”

 

Harry follows Louis like a lost puppy, he doesn’t know his way around the castle so he’s glad he has someone to lead the way. He’s still in awe of all of the beautiful tapestries on the walls, and at one point during their little hunt for supplies, he stops and lightly brushes his fingers against the fabric of one intricately designed tapestry.

 

Once they get everything they need Louis leads him back through another corridor, to a place Harry has not yet seen. Though he shouldn’t be too surprised, he hadn’t seen much of the castle after all. 

 

As the door to this mysterious room opens, Harry is left in awe. It was a library—a  _ huge _ library—with a beautiful mural on the ceiling. Harry looks around in astonishment, what he doesn’t see is Louis smiling at him with a fond look in his eyes.

 

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” Louis asks, Harry nodding as he glances at the prince with wide eyes, Louis turning his head to the side. “It’s stunning, Your Highness.” He says, his voice quiet with shock. “Please,” Louis says as he pushes the door open completely. “Call me Louis, ‘Your Highness’ is too formal, and kind of tacky.”

 

Louis walks ahead, patting a seat next to him, urging Harry to take a seat, whilst Louis cleans the cuts across his arm gently. Harry still winces at the sting of the cool water and rough rag touching his wounded skin, but bites back the hisses that want to come out of his mouth.

 

“All done,” Louis says, pulling away and smiling. “That wasn’t too bad, was it?” He teases, Harry smiling small and shrugging his shoulders. “It was actually excruciating, I’m just strong.” Harry pretends to flex, which provokes a cackle to leave Louis’ lips, the smaller covering his mouth.

 

Louis shakes his head in disbelief. “If you’re so strong, why did you shriek like a little girl when you jumped into the bushes?” He asks, Harry’s face turning pink. “You, erm. You saw that?” He asks, Louis chuckling as he nodded. “I spotted you as soon as you did the button to your fly, Harry.”

 

Harry’s cheeks now a furious red colour from how embarrassed he was, He looks at the ground trying to avoid Louis’ gaze. He wants to be invisible at that moment, but clearly that wouldn’t happen as Louis nudges him gently.

 

Harry finally looks at him, their eyes meeting. As cheesy as it is, he feels time stop. He feels like he’s with his Louis back home, the space between them close, but still too far. It was crazy, how different this Louis was to his but also how similar they were—how  _ drawn _ to him Harry still was. It’s mesmerizing. Louis’ nose scrunches after a moment, the lad stepping back and holding out his hand.

 

“Come and look around more, you know there’s over a thousand books in here.” Louis says, smiling as he takes hold of Harry’s forearm and walks towards one of the shelves. Harry looks at the spines of each book closely, his jaw slack as he read each of the titles. Harry bites his lip, glancing at Louis. He wants to ask why Louis is being so nice to him. What’s the point of this? It doesn’t make any sense. Louis turns his head, meeting Harry’s eyes and smiling. “This is one of my favorites,” He says, pointing to the purple spine of a book. Harry looks at it, his breath catching in his throat at the author’s name.

 

_ Y.H. Magic _ .

 

This has to be a sick joke; this isn’t real, it can’t be. Can it?

 

He clears his throat, the title screaming in the back of his head.  _ Elegantly Wasted _ , Harry has seen that title somewhere else, he doesn’t know where, but he has. He steps back, wrapping his arms around his abdomen as he looks around the room. There are so many books on the shelves, and with as big as the space is, he feels so small. He feels claustrophobic, it feels like the walls are slowly growing closer together.

 

Harry feels faint, like he may actually pass out if he keeps thinking about it. It suddenly makes sense; the way Louis acts, the way he’s treated in the castle, the setting and the town he lives in with Marian and Niall. He can’t believe he didn’t piece it together before. God, how could he be so fucking  _ stupid _ ?!

 

“Louis, this is really beautiful, but...I have to find Niall and Marian, now.” Harry says quickly, avoiding eye contact as he does so. He does, however, see the confused pout on Louis’ face. The older opens his mouth to say something when Harry turns and starts to walk quickly towards the door. “I have to go, I’ll see you tomorrow.” He rushes, his feet picking up speed as he steps out the doorway and sprints down the corridor. 

 

He stops to lean his back against one of the walls, as he tries to calm his breathing. Taking deep breaths and closing his eyes, letting his head rest back against the wall too. He may actually be sick, he can’t  _ believe  _ it took him this long to realise.

 

Harry can’t fathom it— _ he’s in the fucking book _ .

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> we hope you enjoyed this chapter as much as we enjoyed writing it! thanks or almost 150 hits! we really appreciate the feedback you give us and the support! - yazzy (@lietcmc on twitter) and lyd (@sunshinehomo on twitter) <3


	4. everything we used to know, crashed into the great unknown

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The King is fuming, Louis and Anna have a talk, Zayn is very good at persuading, Harry discovers another secret, and Niall gets a little more interesting. (also.. ziam)

“Niall, I need to talk to you,  _ now _ ,” Harry whines, tugging at Niall’s wrist when he’s ignored.

 

Niall keeps his eyes forward and takes his time gathering the cleaning supplies, hooking the small satchel over his shoulder and shoving the mop towards Harry’s chest. He takes it, huffing and following Niall through the corridor. Harry can’t even look around anymore, now that he knows he’s in the book.

 

He doesn’t know how to explain it, but he gets this uncomfortable feeling in his chest, it’s like he can’t breathe properly, his chest feels tight and painful. Just thinking about it makes his head hurt. How in the  _ hell _ could this have really happened? 

 

“Niall,  _ please _ ,” Harry begs pathetically, just wanting the lad to  _ listen _ to him.

 

Once they’re on the wagon, Marian making sure the mule is taking them back home, Niall finally looks at him.

 

“Do you even know why I’m ignoring you?” He asks, Harry frowning at the question. He shook his head, hesitant in his movements. Harry really  _ didn’t _ know what he did for Niall to pretend he didn’t exist for the majority of the afternoon.

 

Niall scoffs, shaking his head. “Typical,” he mumbles, his eyes avoiding Harry’s. “I’m ignoring you because you’re reckless and an inconsiderate fuck.” He says bluntly, Harry’s eyebrows shooting up in shock.

 

“Niall, language.” Marian speaks from the front of the wagon, not bothering to turn her head as Niall apologises quietly, keeping his gaze focused on the floor as the wagon teetered from side to side.

 

Harry stares at the blond, confusion blooming on his face.

 

“Why do you say that, Niall?” He asks, his voice soft and barely audible.

 

Niall huffs, crossing his arms over his chest and rolling his eyes, finally staring Harry in the face.

 

“I thought you were killed, Harry.” He says, Harry’s frown deepening. Before he can open his mouth to ask why—because,  _ why _ —Niall speaks again. “You were there when I turned away, and when I looked back you were gone. It’s not uncommon for guards to silently take servants away to be punished, for whatever reason they seem fit. You scared me, you twat.” He finishes, Harry’s features softening at the sadness in Niall’s eyes.

 

Harry didn’t even realise that he didn’t tell Niall where he was going, and he most definitely didn’t think about the effect it would have on him.

 

“I’m sorry, Niall. I didn’t really think about it. I was only going to the toilet, and I didn’t realise I’d be gone for long.” He says, Niall humming quietly and shrugging.

 

“Where did you go, then?” He asks, Harry looking at the front of the wagon towards Marian before leaning forward so he could whisper.

 

Harry waits until he nearly has his mouth pressed to Niall’s ear.

 

“I was talking to Louis again.” He says, smiling small at the way Niall raises his eyebrows. He stares at Harry, squinting and scanning his face.

 

“I don’t believe you.”

 

Harry visibly deflates, a low groan leaving his lips.

 

“Niall, why don’t you just take my word for it? I pissed in one of the rose bushes in the garden because I had no idea where the stupid toilet was, I panicked when I saw him walking with a girl that wasn’t related to him, and I jumped into the bushes.” He tells him frantically, pulling up the sleeves of his shirt and pointing at the scratches and cuts. “These are from the thorns.” He says matter-of-factly.

 

Niall grabs Harry’s arm, his fingers brushing over a few of the cuts. He was looking at them with a weird look in his eyes, his face twisted in a frown. Harry feels a weird tingle shoot up his arm just as Niall yanks his hand away, a panicked look on his face.

 

“We’re home,” he murmurs, grabbing the supplies and rushing out of the wagon. Harry frowns in Niall’s direction, glancing down at his arm and gasps quietly.

 

Quite a few of the cuts were gone, in their place were light pink scars.

 

✱✱

 

Zayn runs forward, gripping Liam’s shoulder and stopping him in his tracks, the taller turning with a frown. Suddenly, Liam’s cheeks are a bright pink and he’s trying his hardest to stutter out a greeting. Zayn rolls his eyes half-heartedly before speaking, shutting the poor lad up.

 

“You can’t tell the king about what you saw,” he says immediately, Liam staring at him with wide eyes.

 

“I-I don’t know what you’re talking about—”

 

Zayn chuckles, covering Liam’s mouth with his hand, wide brown eyes staring down at him. “I know you saw them in the library, Liam. I was standing there too.” He says softly, his eyes soft as he stares at the younger. “I know you’re loyal to your country or whatever, but please. I’ll talk to him, it won’t happen again.”

 

Liam stares down at Zayn, his eyes gone back to normal, but he still had a hint of hesitation in them. Zayn moves his hand, Liam sighing softly. “Zayn, you know I have to. King Peter will be furious if he finds out I saw something unacceptable and didn’t tell him about it,” He says, his voice quiet.

 

Not three seconds pass and Liam’s being shoved backwards through a door, his back hitting a wall as the door closes behind Zayn. He opens his mouth to speak, and shamelessly beg for his life—you truly can’t blame him when Zayn’s absolutely petrifying when he’s angry—but Zayn has other plans when his mouth is suddenly on Liam’s, a soft sound leaving the taller’s lips.

 

Liam is comfortable, the feeling of Zayn’s mouth familiar. He relaxes then, sighing into his mouth as he rests his hands on the small of the shorter’s back. They stay like that for awhile, their kisses going from rough and desperate to soft and lingering before Zayn pulls away, his grip on Liam’s chest a bit lighter.

 

“Please, Li. I promise I’ll talk to him.” He whispers, his eyes still closed. Liam stares down at him, his lip between his teeth as he thinks.

 

He had two choices here; he could tell King Peter he watched Louis fraternise with the help and face Zayn’s wrath, or he could risk getting fifty lashes for keeping something from him. He rests his head back against the wall, a low whine of defeat leaving his lips. Zayn notices the sound, his smile growing as he opens his eyes and Liam finally looks down at him and nods.

 

“Fine, but make sure it doesn’t happen again,” he relents, Zayn smiling so wide his eyes crinkle, He leans up, pressing a soft kiss to Liam’s lips and pulls away. Zayn is already at the door when Liam opens his eyes, watching the man fondly. Zayn turns back, a soft smirk on his lips.

 

“Meet me in my room tonight, same time as usual?” He says, even though they both know it wasn’t a question. Liam flushes bright red at the insinuation, biting his lip and nodding. Zayn laughs softly, before pushing the door open and walking out. Liam grunts quietly, ignoring the uncomfortable hardness in his trousers.

 

Zayn shuts the door behind him, praying that Liam remembers to count to sixty before he follows. Their arrangement was dangerous, but as long as they were careful, they would be fine. They both had such high profiles in the kingdom, the only people higher being the royal family. This could ruin everything if it got out, therefore, they set strict rules. They only slept together, and the both of them remained apart until they were to sleep together again.

 

That way, no one would ever know.

 

✱✱

 

Louis was hoping he could find the answers to all of his questions by staring at his ceiling and letting them all run through his mind at once—he was sadly mistaken. He turns face down on his stomach and groans into the pillow, frustration running through him. He was so stressed and confused about everything. He just wished the answers to everything would come to him, but of course, it wouldn’t come to him magically. 

 

He hears a knock at the door and swiftly gets up to see who it is. A guard was standing in his doorway, stiff and casting his gaze down. Louis held up a hand before the guard could speak—he knew his father wanted to see him

 

As he follows the guard to his father’s meeting room, he thinks over what this could be about. Surely it had to be about the usual; his legacy, choosing a wife, who he’d spend the rest of his life with, the future he had no say in. 

 

The second he saw his father look up at him and the guards leave, he knew it was about something completely different, he just didn’t know what. He hadn’t seen his father look this angry at him in a while, although he had no clue what he had done that had put him in such a sour mood. 

 

“So you don’t have time to think about your future or your options for a wife, but you have time to go wandering around the library with the help?!”

 

Oh, that’s what this was about. A guard had clearly seen Louis walking around the library with Harry, and had told his father. 

 

Louis tries to explain to his father that he was only helping Harry with his injuries and they just so happened to start a conversation, but the venomous look on his father’s face said it all. He wasn’t just angry with him, he was furious.

 

“Why were you even with the boy in the first place? You have much more important things to focus on, those important things being, choosing a wife! Do you want the people around here to talk about how you aren’t going to be ‘taken seriously’ as a King, because you can’t sort out your priorities?” He spits, Louis stepping away with wide eyes. 

 

“If you continue this way, they will, and trust me son; if they don’t take you seriously, the guard won’t.  _ Wars _ can arise because people want a suitable king; someone they can trust to lead, someone they can also fear. If they don’t fear you, well then what’s the point?!”

 

King Peter shakes his head as he looks at the ground. Louis could tell his father was disappointed but right now, he was hurt. It didn’t even seem like his father cared about  _ him _ at all, it was all about being the future king, not what Louis wanted, he didn’t even give him a chance to explain—he just erupted.

 

“Well what if I don’t  _ want _ to be the future King? Have you ever thought about that?!” Louis nearly shouts, his voice wavering with fear and anger. He scoffs, crossing his arms. “No of course you haven’t.” His father whipped his head up and walks closer, his pointer finger now out and aiming straight at Louis.

 

“Don’t you  _ dare  _ talk to me like that, I am your father and your King! You don’t know what you’re saying right now, you do want to be king, everyone wants to be king for God’s sake! You will be the future King. Whether you like it or not; you are the first born son, you are next in line, and when you are married, your first born son will be next in line after you, that is the way it goes! You are dismissed.” 

 

With tears threatening to spill, Louis nearly sprints out of the room, heading back to his own chambers to go and cry out his frustrations.

 

Of course his father didn’t give a shit about him, or what he wanted and how he felt, for that matter. He only acts as though he cares because he is to be the future king. As the tears start to roll down his face, he walks down the corridor headed towards his room. Before he can get there however, he bumps into someone. Louis nearly shouts vile insults when he glances up, his voice dying in his throat when he recognises Liam.

 

“Are you okay?” He had such a concerned look on his face, it just somehow made more tears form in his eyes. He wipes his eyes and puts on a small smile. 

 

“Yeah, yeah I-um, I’m okay, really, it’s—” he tries to think for a moment for something he could blame it on, when his eyes land outside. “It’s allergies.”

 

He knew that wasn’t believable though, and by the look on Liam’s face, he thought the same.

 

“You don’t have allergies, you know you can talk to me right?” His hand now on Louis’ shoulder.

 

Louis nods at him, and takes a deep breath before talking. “Yeah it’s just my father, going on at me about my future, I guess it’s all just piling up inside me, and it’s like I have no choice so—I’m just rambling now, but that’s the gist of what’s going on anyway.” He hums, dismissing his emotional state so Liam would just leave him be. “Thanks Liam.”

 

Liam gives him a small smile, and squeezes his shoulder once before turning to walk down the corridor and leaving Louis to walk to his room. The silence that was in the castle was deafening to Louis, it was never usually this quiet, but he was sort of glad.

 

At the last second, Louis turns left down a corridor instead of right, and heads to the library. He was the only person that resided in the castle that went into the library to begin with, and no one would disturb him for hours if he slipped to the back of the room.

 

Though when he closes the door behind him and turned, he was most definitely not expecting Anna to be standing in the library, a book open in her hands and her eyes scanning the pages. She glances up, smiling wide and placing the book back onto the shelf.

 

“Hello again Louis; I felt that it was rude for me to leave so abruptly after meeting Harry. I just wanted to check on how he was, did you get everything sorted out with his cuts?”

 

“Yeah, Harry’s fine now, I think.” He says, averting his gaze and wiping at his cheeks.

 

Anna tilts her head whilst looking at him questioningly. She nods her head and hums lightly, biting on her bottom lip as if she was thinking of what to say next.

 

“Do you want to talk about it? I’m a pretty good listener.” Anna offers a smile, which Louis returns, even if it isn’t convincing.

 

“Yeah, sure, though it’s kind of a lot, and most of it is confusing.” Louis says quietly. He gestures towards the chairs placed towards the middle of the room, and they both take a seat. She nods at him reassuringly. “Go ahead, I’m all ears.”

 

“Okay well to start, we did clean up Harry’s cuts, although whilst I was showing him around the library, I guess I must’ve said something wrong or done something? I don’t know but he started acting weird and all of a sudden said he had to go, he looked kind of panicked? I have no idea what I’ve done to make him feel like that,” Louis mumbles, biting his lip and shaking his head.

 

“Secondly my dad is breathing down my neck every second of every day about the future, being king and the whole finding a wife thing and I-I should really slow down.” He laughs quietly  at what he’s said. “This probably all seems so stupid to be talking and worrying about.”

 

She takes his hand and gives it another reassuring squeeze, her smile almost beaming. “It’s not stupid at all, it’s a lot of pressure on you, of course you’re going to feel stressed. The Harry thing though; you seem more concerned than I thought you would be—not that that’s a bad thing at all, it’s actually the opposite.” Her smile now seemed a little brighter, Louis didn’t know why though.

 

“I don’t know how to explain it but it feels like something is drawing me to him? Like there’s a pull, but I don’t know why or what to do about it, I’m just really confused about the whole thing to be honest.” Louis groans and puts his head in his hands. He doesn’t know what the fuck is happening, and he honestly doesn’t know if he  _ wants _ to know.

 

“Louis,” Anna starts, placing a hand on his back and lightly patting him. She truly didn’t know what to do either, hence the sad excuse of comfort she was trying to give him. “You shouldn’t worry about that. Sometimes people are just drawn to others in a way they can’t explain. I know that I’m drawn to you; I feel you need a friend, as do I.”

 

Louis smiles at that, finally sitting up straight and looking at her. He can tell she’s going to be an important addition to his life. He shrugs, biting his lip and glancing at his bookshelf. He remembers yesterday, when he had rushed in, ready to throw another fit after his father had gotten onto him again about the law.

 

He remembers throwing his blazer on the floor, and glancing up to see the room he had trashed earlier was spotless, and then seeing the figure standing in front of the bookcase, one arm outstretched and frozen.

 

The feeling was almost instant, recognising him as the commoner that he’d bumped into earlier, and the pull. It was almost a wave of reassurance, but of what Louis couldn’t decipher then. In the library earlier today, he realised how easy it was to be himself around Harry. The lad was odd, but he wasn’t judgemental in any way, which was a breath of fresh air around the castle.

 

Louis could easily slip up around his father, and then be terrified of the consequences later, but it wasn’t like that with Harry. He could say something vile, something even the drunkards would turn their nose up at, and he already sensed that Harry would just chuckle, maybe even add something to it. He felt comfortable around Harry, he hadn’t even known him for long at all and yet he felt a strange sense of security when he was with him.

 

It was oddly relieving, but also terrifying. He couldn’t be so open with anyone, especially not the help. The servants have been known to figure things out and go blabbing around the castle, especially when it came to Louis. A soft sigh left Louis’ lips as he glanced at Anna, his smile subtle.

 

“I would love nothing more than to be your friend.”

 

✱✱

 

Harry’s still in shock from what had occurred throughout the day, he didn’t even really understand  _ what _ had just happened, his mind couldn’t comprehend it. He was in the book, the fucking  _ book _ he constantly rereads. How could he be so  _ stupid _ as to not realise sooner?! 

 

Some of his cuts had healed after Niall had touched his arm—but how? The confusion exhausted him, he just wants to go to sleep. 

 

The moment he steps into his room after supper, he can feel the drowsiness pulling at his eyelids. That stupid cot sounded like Heaven right about now, and as uncomfortable as it was, he plops face first onto the mattress and immediately snuggles into the thin pillow.

 

He truly hopes this was just an extended dream, because to be quite honest this was all too much, too confusing and too much to process. His mind was a mess trying to figure out  _ how _ this happened and  _ why _ , how does he get back home to the real world, to  _ his _ Louis?

 

He can’t think up answers to any of those questions right now, he would have to try to figure it out slowly, instead of all at once. Slowly, he starts to drift off, ignoring the sound of the wind hitting against the window, and curling into a ball to keep his toes from freezing in the night.

 

At one moment in the night, he wakes and groggily looks up to see messy blond tufts of hair and Niall’s concentrated face as he leans over him. He frowns, and opens his mouth to speak before an odd tingle shoots up his spine, paralysing him in his spot as the subtle heat travels through his body.

 

Harry continues to watch Niall’s face, seeing the colour drain from his cheeks and sweat start to bead on his forehead. Soon enough, the heat passes through, leaving a soft buzzing behind Harry’s eyes, Niall visibly relaxing. His breathing was laboured as he stood on shaky legs and turned to leave, Harry finally reaching out and grabbing his wrist softly.

 

Niall freezes as Harry begins to speak, his voice slurred. “What’d you do?” He asks, Niall turning back to look at him, frown soft on his tired features. “You’re dreaming, go back to sleep.” He says softly, Harry involuntarily letting go of Niall’s hand and shutting his eyes. He didn’t sleep immediately, so he had a solid ten seconds to register _this is so weird,_ _what the fuck is happening_ before he was out cold.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> we really hope you like this chapter as it develops! thank you so much for 200 hits! - yazzy (@lietcmc on twitter) and lyd (@sunshinehomo on twitter) <3

**Author's Note:**

> this is our first fic we've ever written together, we'll be doing weekly updates - sunday. we hope you enjoy it, because we really enjoy writing it! feel free to follow us on twitter for updates and us being crackhead's whilst writing, lots of love, yazzy (@lietcmc) and lyd (@kissykiwilwt) <3


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